I sat at the table, absently tracing the edge of a wooden stick with my fingers, my thoughts tangled in the events of the day. Mira and Elena's words lingered in my mind—subtle, layered with warmth yet carrying an unspoken weight. Elena, especially, was an enigma. There was something about her presence that felt… deliberate. She was no mere innkeeper, that much I was certain.
But what was she hiding?
For now, I had no answers. I exhaled softly, pressing my fingers against the smooth grain of the wooden stick. The energy inside it—refined, almost artificial—was unlike anything I had encountered in Murim. It didn't pulse like natural Qi. Instead, it was contained, structured, as though forged rather than cultivated.
I turned it over in my hand, running my thumb along the polished surface. Who created this? And for what purpose?
The common room of the inn was quiet. The flickering oil lamps cast long, restless shadows across the wooden floor, while the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air. A few travelers still lingered at the tables, their hushed conversations blending with the soft crackle of the hearth.
A small pouch sat by my side, its weight reassuring. Fifty gold coins. Enough to live comfortably for years, if spent wisely. It had been among my belongings when I woke up in this body—a gift, perhaps, from the father of Leon Lancaster.
Fifty gold, I mused, running a finger over the pouch's drawstring. Wealth enough to change a man's fate.
But money wasn't my priority. Not yet. Information was.
This world was unfamiliar. I didn't know its customs, its dangers, or its strengths. All I had were scattered memories and instincts sharpened by a lifetime in Murim. And this wooden stick, pulsing with strange energy, was proof that I still had much to learn.
I set it down with a quiet clack and leaned back, letting my gaze drift toward the window. The village outside was wrapped in darkness, the faint glow of lanterns lining the narrow streets. The cool night air carried with it the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke.
This world is no different from Murim, I thought. The strong rule, and the weak endure.
But there was something else. A difference I couldn't yet put into words. Nobles ruled, not just through wealth or influence, but through something deeper—an inherited power. Magic.
A refined form of Qi? I wondered. Or something entirely separate?
Before I could ponder further, the sound of soft footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. Mira approached, carrying a tray laden with food. She set it down in front of me, her sharp eyes flicking briefly to the wooden stick before returning to my face.
"You've been quiet tonight," she noted, her tone light but watchful. "Long day?"
I nodded, picking up a piece of bread. "Something like that."
Mira pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, stretching her arms before resting her elbows on the table. She glanced at the stick again but didn't ask about it. Instead, she simply sighed.
"I swear, today felt twice as long as usual. We had a merchant caravan come through this morning, and they haggled for nearly an hour over room prices." She scoffed, shaking her head. "Acting like they were broke when their wagons were practically bursting with silk and silver."
I smirked faintly, breaking the bread in half. "You held firm, I assume?"
"Of course." She grinned. "Elena would've had my head if I didn't."
I took a bite of the bread, savoring the warm, buttery taste. Mira leaned back, tilting her head as she studied me.
"You don't talk much about yourself," she said, not as a question but as an observation.
I chewed thoughtfully before replying. "Not much to say."
Mira hummed, unconvinced but uninterested in prying. Instead, she nodded toward my plate. "Eat while it's warm. Elena'll be over soon."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a warning?"
She chuckled. "More like a courtesy. She'll want to check in."
True to Mira's words, not long after she left, Elena approached. Her movements were unhurried, graceful, her dark hair cascading down her back in soft waves. There was an effortless elegance to the way she carried herself—calm, composed, yet undeniably watchful.
She placed a fresh pitcher of water on the table before sitting across from me. "I hope the food is to your liking," she said, her voice smooth, almost melodic.
"It's good." I set down my bread. "Better than I expected, to be honest."
Elena smiled, though there was something measured about it. "We do our best."
A comfortable silence settled between us. Unlike before, she didn't fill it with probing questions. Instead, she simply sat, watching the firelight dance across the room.
"You seem deep in thought," she remarked after a moment.
I glanced at the wooden stick beside me. "Just… adjusting."
She nodded knowingly. "This world can be overwhelming at first." She poured herself a small cup of tea and took a slow sip. "It takes time."
I studied her, noting the way she spoke—not with the idle curiosity of a stranger, but with the quiet certainty of someone who understood.
"You've seen many travelers pass through," I said.
Elena let out a soft breath, setting her cup down. "More than I can count. Some stay, most leave." Her fingers traced the rim of the cup absentmindedly. "The world is vast, and people are always searching for something—safety, purpose, a fresh start."
I considered her words. "And you? What keeps you here?"
A flicker of amusement crossed her face. "Someone has to make sure Mira doesn't chase off our customers."
I chuckled lightly, shaking my head.
Elena leaned back slightly, tilting her head. "You're different from most travelers."
"Different how?"
She shrugged, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Most arrive with a past they're running from. You don't strike me as someone who runs."
I didn't reply right away, letting her words settle.
"I suppose that depends on what's chasing me," I finally said.
Elena's lips curved into a small, knowing smile, but she didn't push further. She simply lifted her cup once more and took a slow sip.
Silence settled between us again, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it was the kind that lingered between two people who understood that words weren't always necessary.
After a moment, she set her cup down and rose gracefully to her feet. "Get some rest," she said. "Tomorrow will come sooner than you think."
I watched as she walked away, her movements as fluid as flowing water.
As I turned my gaze back to the wooden stick, I exhaled quietly. There were many things I still didn't understand about this world. But I wasn't in a rush.
Answers would come in time.
For now, I would wait. And I would watch.
After finishing my meal, I made my way upstairs, the wooden stick tucked under my arm. The inn was quieter now, with only the faint creaks of the wooden floor and the distant murmur of voices downstairs. The oil lamps on the walls flickered softly, casting long shadows along the hallway.
I pushed open the door to my room and stepped inside, shutting it gently behind me. The room was small but comfortable, with a single bed, a wooden chair, and a window that overlooked the village. A cool night breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of damp earth and burning wood.
Sitting on the bed, I ran my fingers over the wooden stick. The strange energy within it pulsed faintly, like a quiet heartbeat. It wasn't something I fully understood, but for now, I didn't need to. There were more important things to figure out.
Lying down, I stared at the ceiling, my mind restless. There were too many questions and not enough answers. My memories were scattered, like pieces of a puzzle missing half its parts.
I knew my name—Leon Lancaster. I knew I came from a family of magicians. I knew I was exiled because I couldn't use magic. But everything beyond that was hazy.
I needed to learn more. About the kingdom. About magic. About how to survive here.
With a slow breath, I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day pull me into a light, dreamless sleep.
–––
Morning arrived gently, with soft golden light spilling through the window. The distant sounds of carts rolling over cobblestone streets and birds chirping filled the quiet room.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My body felt heavy, but my mind was clearer.
Picking up the wooden stick, I felt its faint energy again—calm, steady, almost reassuring.
'Today, I'll start figuring things out,' I thought.
After dressing, I strapped my sword to my belt and tucked the stick into my coat.
Downstairs, the scent of fresh bread and warm tea filled the air. Mira was already up, moving around the common room. Her long dark hair was tied into a messy braid, and she wore a simple dress that looked slightly too big for her.
She glanced at me as I sat down, her expression neutral at first, then curious.
"You woke up early," she said, placing a loaf of bread and a cup of tea on the table.
I nodded. "Couldn't sleep much."
She tilted her head. "Nightmares?"
"Just a lot on my mind."
Mira sat on the counter, kicking her legs back and forth. "You're kinda quiet," she said. "Most travelers like to talk a lot."
I took a sip of the tea. It was bitter but warmed me up. "I don't have much to say."
She made a face. "That's boring."
I smirked slightly. "Not everyone likes to talk."
Mira huffed. "Well, Elena says talking makes things less awkward. And she talks a lot, so maybe she's right."
I didn't answer, just kept eating.
After a moment, she spoke again. "You should go to the market. Lots of people go there. If you wanna know stuff, just listen to them."
I glanced at her. "What makes you think I want to know stuff?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. Just seems like you're thinking a lot."
I took another bite of bread. "Maybe."
She hopped off the counter. "If you go, get me something cool."
I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
She grinned. "Dunno. Just something."
I sighed. "I'll see what I can do."
Mira beamed, then skipped off toward the kitchen.
The market was already bustling when I arrived. Stalls lined the streets, their colorful cloth awnings fluttering in the breeze. Merchants shouted about their goods—fresh vegetables, dried meat, handmade trinkets. The air was thick with the scent of spices and warm bread.
I moved through the crowd slowly, taking everything in. The people were lively, bartering, laughing, haggling over prices. It was a good place to gather information without drawing attention.
As I walked, I glanced at a small stall displaying various accessories—bracelets, rings, necklaces made from simple metals and polished stones.
The merchant was a middle-aged woman with a kind face. She greeted me with a smile. "Looking for something?"
I glanced over the items, then remembered Mira's words.
Something cool.
I picked up a small bracelet. It was a simple band of silver with a tiny blue stone in the center. Not too fancy, but not plain either.
"How much?" I asked.
The woman studied me for a moment, then smiled. "For you, five copper coins."
I reached into my pouch and counted out the coins. I had more than enough from what Elena had given me. Handing them over, I took the bracelet and tucked it into my coat.
"Got someone special you're giving that to?" the woman asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.
I shook my head. "Just a gift."
She chuckled. "Well, I hope they like it."
I nodded and moved on, weaving through the crowd.
As I walked, I listened. The market was full of chatter—gossip, complaints, stories. Some mentioned a noble's upcoming wedding, others talked about rising food prices. But one conversation caught my attention.
"They found another wagon torn apart near the forest."
"Bandits?"
"No. Shadow Wolves."
My steps slowed.
Two men were talking near a vegetable stall, their voices hushed but urgent.
"Are you sure?" one of them asked.
The other man nodded grimly. "Tracks were everywhere. Claw marks too deep for normal wolves."
The first man shivered. "I thought they only attacked at night."
"Not anymore."
I frowned, filing the information away.
Shadow Wolves. I'd heard the name before, but this was the first real mention of them. If they were bold enough to attack during the day, that meant the roads were becoming more dangerous.
I needed to be careful.
By midday, I returned to the inn. Mira was sitting on a stool near the counter, swinging her legs and munching on a piece of bread.
She looked up as I approached. "You're back fast."
I handed her the small wrapped package. "Here."
She blinked, taking it curiously. "What's this?"
I sat down at the table. "You said to get something cool."
Mira unwrapped the bracelet, her eyes widening slightly. "Whoa. This is nice."
She held it up to the light, turning it over in her hands. Then, without hesitation, she slipped it onto her wrist.
A small, satisfied grin crossed her face. "It fits."
I sipped my tea, watching her. "Glad you like it."
She looked at me, tilting her head. "Why'd you get this one?"
I shrugged. "Seemed like something you'd like."
Mira studied the bracelet for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. It's cool."
She didn't say thank you, but she didn't have to.
She just kept looking at the bracelet, twisting it around her wrist as if trying to memorize how it felt.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.
One step at a time.
There was still a lot to figure out. About this world. About my past. About what lay ahead.
But for now, I had time.